Renaissance
by striderswhore
Summary: Modern AU! In which Marco and Jean go to a renaissance fair


Whoa, first one-shot for SnK. It's a little nerve racking cause I'm not really sure if all the characters are, well, _in-character_. I hope everyone likes it. A prompt was given to me by my friend acmunson2(go follow her on tumblr *coughshamelesspromotioncough*). Jean and Marco on a date(well Jean doesnt know its a date lol). Also, I am not too sure how much a _claymore_ would go for, I just estimated. Maybe it's higher, maybe it's lower. We just dont know. Side note: We ain't seeing any fireworks in the sky, that's for sure ;)

* * *

The early morning was brisk, not yet fully warmed by the summer sun's rays. Jean wiped his brow irritably, flashing a scowl at Marco. The freckled male smiled good-naturedly.

"Why am I the one wearing this stupid outfit? I look like an idiot." Jean complained, picking at the silk trousers adorning his lower half. They were puffed slightly above the knees in a bright array of colors, matching his equally colorful shirt. A three pointed hat sat atop his head, bells attached to the ends of the points. They chimed softly in time with his pointed shoes.

Marco smiled wider, "Would you rather wear my armor? I'd be willing to trade." Jean huffed, batting at the bell hanging in front of his face. He glanced over at Marco's body, encased in a full body suit of silver-plated armor. Marco even had the helmet, though he refrained from wearing it for the moment. Each step the tall male took was accompanied by the clinking of metal.

"On second thought, I'll look like a fool." Jean glanced away, eyes glued to the makeshift castle sitting in the distance. Marco steered his friend away from it, keeping a firm hand on his shoulder. The crowd was a decent size considering the time of day and Marco did not want to lose track of his friend anytime soon.

"Is there a stall or something you want to go to?" Marco asked, desperate to distract his best friend. Jean put a hand to his chin in thought, head tilted to the side. Marco couldn't help but blush at Jean's cute pose.

Jean bit his lip, "I heard Reiner's managing a blacksmith shop..." he trailed off, uncertain. Marco sighed in relief.

"Let's go then!" He looped his arm with Jean's, dragging his friend in a random direction. Jean dug his heel into the ground.

"Marco I don't think that's the right way." Jean stated. "We can get a map and then find the shop." Marco stopped abruptly, startled.

"Oh right! Hahaha, I forgot, sorry Jean!" he nervously twitched, raising alarms in Jean's brain. The jester waved it off, scanning the surrounding area for an employee. It wasn't easy, considering many people were garbed in traditional clothing like himself.

After procuring a map from another jester(to which shot jokes and friendly banter at Jean), the two set out to find the stall their friend was in charge of. Marco was suspiciously enthusiastic to visit their mutual friend, or so it seemed to Jean. The two entered the shop with grandeur, front flap whipping against Marco's armor harshly. Reiner looked up from his work, a rare smile forming on his face.

"Jean, Marco!" he greeted out of character. Jean accepted the hug from the blonde giant stiffly.

"Aren't you supposed to sound like you're from medieval times?" he accused. Reiner rolled his eyes, sighing.

"It's fine. What can I do for you two?" Reiner stared extra hard at Marco, scrutinizing the kind male with a trained eye. Marco pretended not to notice.

"I was wondering if you've got anything interesting here." Jean responded, snapping Reiner out of his reverie. The blacksmith was known to day dream often and needed to be watched closely. This didn't detract from his work, surprisingly enough.

"I was waiting for you two, actually. I've got a real beauty here." Reiner snapped his fingers and a lanky teenage assistant appeared. Jean raised a thin brow.

"Get me_ that_, would you?" The teen nodded, scurrying off. Marco cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at the impressive tools.

The teen soon returned with a sheathed sword. It was large, and looked heavy too with a smooth leather sheath. Reiner easily picked it up, unsheathing it with a practiced hand. Jean whistled at the magnificent gleam.

"This is a Scottish_ claymore_. I just finished polishing it." Jean was practically drooling, "Traditionally, it's a two-handed, double-edged blade but as you can see, with enough muscle you can use it with one hand." Marco _highly_ doubted that was the case but he refrained from speaking aloud.

"How much do you want?" Jean asked, reaching into his back pocket. Reiner sheathed the large sword, handing it to his assistant.

"Normally I'd say around $2000, maybe $3000 but since you're Jean I'll reduce it to a thousand." The jester pulled out his wallet, handing Reiner his credit card. Jean was bouncing as the purchase rang up. He took the sword with glee, energy increasing just from looking at the sheath. He ran a thumb over the jeweled pommel, a bright green gem fitted into place.

"Thanks so much man! I owe you one!" Marco smiled softly at his friend, unnoticed by all but Reiner. Jean chatted for a bit before regretfully leaving the establishment. Before he could follow, Reiner pulled Marco aside.

"You need to tell him." Marco didn't even need to ask to what Reiner had been referring. The knight sighed heavily.

"I know. I thought I'd um...do it later? Maybe at the fireworks show?" Marco scratched the back of his head, eyes closed. Reiner grunted.

"But Mikasa is here." he hissed, causing Marco to still.

"She is? But I thought she-" Reiner silenced Marco with a look.

"Armin got Mikasa and Eren to help out. They're the Prince and Princess. Armin's a squire." Marco bit his lip, worried.

"Hey, Marco, you coming or not?" Jean yelled, too close for comfort.

"Yeah, in a second!" Marco shared a glance with Reiner, pursing his lips. "That might be a problem, but as long as we don't see Mikasa or Eren everything should be fine, right?"

Reiner shrugged, "I don't know. Just don't go near the castle."

* * *

After visiting Annie and Bertholdt at the pub(Annie attracted _quite_ a bit of attention as the bar wench; understandably, Bertholdt was jealous), Jean suggested the two look around in the castle. Marco paled, eyes wide. Jean was alarmed by this development in his best friend.

"Or we can go get some food?" he pathetically whispered, concerned over his friend. "Marco? Would you rather go eat? We don't have to go to the castle today if you don't want to." Marco bit his lip.

"I-I...let's go eat." he forced a smile, gripping Jean's hand tightly in his own. Jean led them to a eatery where the two got a discount for wearing their costumes. Marco sagged in his chair, relief splayed in his posture. Jean gazed curiously at his friend, noticing the sweat slicking his friend's face. Unthinkingly, Jean stretched a hand across the table to touch Marco's face. It was hot and sweaty and seemed to grow hotter under his touch.

"W-what are you d-doing Jean?" Marco squeaked, embarrassed. Butterflies ate at his stomach, making his chest tighten.

Jean frowned, "I'll switch costumes with you Marco if you're too hot in this armor." Marco shook his head weakly. True, he had been feeling a bit faint but he was determined to hide it. Marco was having a wonderful time with Jean and he didn't want to ruin it.

"That's ok." Marco licked his dry lips, grateful to the waitress for bringing their food. Since it was a renaissance fair, Jean had insisted they try mutton. It was really good and melted in Marco's mouth pleasantly. The two couldn't have any wine or rum but they did order water, which quenched their thirst deliciously.  
Someone tapped Jean's shoulder while he paused from eating. He swiveled in his chair, scowl planted on his face, only to see Connie and Sasha. His scowl fell and he allowed a small grin to force it's way onto his mouth.

"Hey Connie, Sasha." Marco meekly nodded from his seat, sipping at his tall glass.

"Did you guys go to the castle yet?" Sasha blurted before pleasantries could be spoken. Jean shook his head.

"Ah no, Marco wasn't feeling up to it." he explained. Connie gave Marco a confused side glance but shrugged it off.

Sasha bounced on her heel, "Well Mikasa and Eren are the Prince and Princess this year! Christa and Ymir are the Queen and King as well." Jean froze in place, muscles locked.

"Ah, Sasha, I don't think Jean knew." Connie stated, pulling Sasha closer to himself. Jean was fuming and no one knew exactly _why_. Marco gulped, sliding further into his seat. Jean glanced at him, eyes on fire.

"Did you know, Marco?" his voice was low, dangerous. Despite being frightened of this Jean, Marco was, well, _turned on_.

"I-I...I did." he stuttered, face looking down in shame. Jean's teeth snapped audibly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Connie and Sasha high tailed it out of there, afraid of confrontation. Marco played with his fingers, unable to look at his friend.

"Because I knew you were in _love_ with Mikasa. Because for the past_ ten years_ I've had to watch the one I love more than anything get his heart broken over and over again." Marco blurted, fingers taut. He chanced a look at Jean, who stared in shock.

"You...what?" Marco bit his lip, hard. He knew he shouldn't have said that last part, but it was painful. He could feel tears beginning to form from rejection and stood abruptly.

_"I love you, Jean Kirchstein._" He muttered, fingers forming fists. Marco made to escape but Jean grabbed his wrist tightly. The jester turned the knight with a grunt, slamming his lips against his.

Marco stood tensed, before relaxing. It was a rough, passionate kiss with tongues clashing and teeth scraping. Marco was on fire with the usual butterflies gnawing desperately at his belly, creating a warmth so severe he feared he would spontaneously combust. Jean pulled away, licking his lips absently to rid them of any connecting threads of saliva. Marco was bewildered, to say in the least.

"Before you run away, you should stop and think." Jean breathily replied, hands gripping Marco's.

"B-but, I thought you were angry." Marco responded, confused.

Jean sighed, blowing a bell out of his face, "I was angry that you didn't tell me, yes. But I'll be damned if anything gets between you and me." His eyes softened, a smirk forming on his face, "I never did reply to your confession, did I?"

"Oh, u-um you can forget about it if it makes you uncomfortable." Marco said, bashfully glancing at his toes. Jean growled in frustration.

"Dingbat, if I was bothered, would I have kissed you with such vigor?" Marco flushed at his insecurity.

"I suppose not." Jean snorted, ruffling Marco's hair.

"I love you too, Marco."


End file.
